There was once a beautiful princess, living
in a land of spice and honey. In all the centuries that had come before and
each that would come after, none would shine brighter. Her eyes were deep
azure, her hair ebony lace, her complexion silk upon ivory; but most beautiful
of all were her graceful curves and supple long limbs. She was a moving temple
to love that is romantic.

People travelled from near and far to see
her perform the sacred dance. They offered rings set with precious gems to
adorn her long fingers and bangles of silver and gold to lay upon her elegant
wrists; so when she wove her hands in the air, the very cosmos came alive and
sparked about her grip. Such was her grace, even the Gods were transported and
they heaped upon the land added richness.

The princess was not overly vain or greedy.
She had but two arms and ten fingers; what did she need with so much? To the
other maidens of the kingdom, she shared her treasure. No land would ever boast
so many finely-decorated beauties. Most loved the princess for her generosity,
all but one handmaiden: a beauty in her own right but lacking inner grace. Her
splendid bone-structure stood strong but no spirit shone in her eyes. Really,
she was a handmaiden of her own making. Even though each of her ten fingers was
weighted down with a gem and she wore bangles to her elbows, she did not think
it fair that one princess should have so much. She would set things right.

The moon was full when the handmaiden stole
into the royal sleeping chamber. Her knife glinted silver. With two slicing
blows, she severed the arms of the princess and left her to bleed red into a
sliver of white moonlight. The Gods intervened in the only way they could. They
turned the princess to stone just as her last breath departed its earthly
shrine. She would be forever beautiful but never dance again.

The Gods then left this land that would
slay its own grace. With their departure, the spices stopped growing and the
honey would not flow. The kingdom fell to poverty and squalor. The people still
came to look upon the stone princess, but her hands and arms were gone and they
brought no more offerings. One by one, each and every bangle and ring would be
sold to pay for grain, to fill empty bellies, and coal, to warm cold hearths.

In time, even the arms and fingers of the
handmaiden were bare, but still she felt no regret as her teeth wore down upon
her daily meal of gritty bread. She knew; she had wrought justice. It was not
right that one should have so much.

Pryde was born in Winnipeg and attended high school in
Calgary. She obtained a B.A. in theatre and later a B.Ed. She has taught both
in Vancouver and Japan and traveled extensively. Currently, she is a
stay-at-home mom and a frequent denizen of Vancouver Starbucks. In addition to
Strays, a collection of short stories and philosophical love poems, she has
published the Wisp, a paranormal thriller. Both are available for purchase on
Amazon.